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by danithemani



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Father/Son Incest, Implied Sexual Content, Incest, M/M, Other, Parent/Child Incest, Past Rape/Non-con, Psychological Trauma, Stockholm Syndrome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-23
Updated: 2018-08-23
Packaged: 2019-07-01 15:31:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15776928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/danithemani/pseuds/danithemani
Summary: Dante comes home on leave per Father's request. Takes place before the events of Fallout 4 and before Shaun's birth.Super triggery, please read with care.





	Home

"F-father, I'm married now."

Dante wanted to step back, to pull away, to take his car out of park and drive the rest of the way home. But his father's penthouse apartment, the one where he grew up, was really home to him. It was the first stop he made when he got off the airplane. His wife would have to wait, Father said.

"You didn't mind when you had those little boyfriends, did you? Why is this any different? I haven't seen you in over a year."

He felt slim fingers wrap around his waist and he knew it was over. Dante was older, stronger, bigger. But it didn't matter. His mind snapped back to that of a child, eight years old and begging for approval.

"Didn't you miss me?"

"Yes Father."

"Good boy."

He closed his eyes. He felt ghostly pale hands, cold and yearning, pull across his skin. He did nothing.

"I'm glad you came to see me first. I don't like what that ghastly woman does to you."

"Nora isn't so bad, Father. You know she finally got that prom-"

That was as much as a protest as he could muster.

"I don't want to hear about your wife. She's dreadful. I don't know why I let you marry her. You're the man of the house, but she walks around like she owns it."

Danny bit his lower lip. He tried not to show how fidgety he was getting. It would make things worse.

"But no matter. You're here now. You're a grown man, my little boy, in the Army. I bet she has no idea."

Dante gulped. His ears rang red. He had never been with another man since they were married. Well, no other man except for... But that didn't count. There was nothing he could do about that. That's what good families did. They were from a good family.

"You didn't do anyone else, did you precious? I can see it in your eyes."

Dante shook his head no. Something burned in his chest.

"Good, then this'll be good for both of us."

Twenty three years old, Danny thought, and an officer in the United States Armed Forces, and I'm still laying here like a child. He let his mind go blank, try to think about anything else, until he heard a buckle snap and the rough shifting of cloth on the leather couch.

"You are just so pretty. Even with all this stubble," he said, white hand gripping his son's chin, "you're still my pretty boy."

Those sweet words were a trap. He had failed, he had failed already and they haven't even started. He had only been in Boston for an hour and already he was disappointing Father.

"I-I didn't have time to shave, Father, I'm sorry."

Even as a child Dante couldn't feign innocence. He was too smart for that, he knew it was wrong even if Father insisted it wasn't. But he wasn't, afraid. He wasn't sure what he was.

"That's alright precious. You're okay. You're safe with me."

Those words were like opium to Dante. They rang sweet and heady, helped his mind accept the situation. So Dante felt safe, felt his body go limp as his shirt was being unbuttoned. His body was betraying him, as it had for years. In his freshman psychology class, Dante had diagnosed himself with something called trauma bonding - the affection given to someone for whom you shared a traumatic life event. Something soldiers developed in a foxhole. Something victims develop from their abuser.

"You know I've missed you, Dante."

Intellectually, Dante knew this was terrible. He wasn't stupid. He was just, coping. Disassociating, as his lower body felt the same sensations it had for years. Until it was over, awash in a haze of motion and breath until he felt like he was drowning. He blocked off his father's coos, words of encouragement, replied mindlessly in the expected ways. His body responded in ways his mind refused to acknowledge. It wasn't rough or particularly passionate, but it was painfully gentle. He could take anything the world threw at him as long as it wasn't nice.

"You're so handsome, look up at me, let me see your pretty eyes."

Dante remembered chasing that feeling in his youth, his boyfriends, even a teacher. They weren't usually gentle, or sweet, or kind. It took him to another place, a place where he wasn't expected to enjoy it, where his body wasn't wracked by guilt, because he wasn't the one doing something wrong. He was making his Father do this, for his own good, because he would never hurt him.

"You're so dark, even your soft lips are so dark. You look so much like her, you're so beautiful."

But this was wrong. This was terribly wrong and Dante knew it. His poor Father, poor Father, what would people think if they knew about this? He was a terrible son, he was a terrible son, and there were no words Father could say that would ever take his guilt away. He only wanted to be good.

 

**Author's Note:**

> If you really, really like my work or are just into sending good vibes in the form of monetary compensation, check out my Ko-fi page http://ko-fi.com/danithemani  
> Every little bit helps - but my work will always be free and open to the public. Thank you so much for reading!


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